


What You Will

by Jenivi7



Category: Homestuck, Twelfth Night - Shakespeare
Genre: Bad Shakespeare, Crossdressing, F/F, F/M, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Oh god what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-17
Updated: 2012-05-17
Packaged: 2017-11-05 12:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenivi7/pseuds/Jenivi7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of it's rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood.  Her companion, and the only other live creature on the beach, is a large, stray dog, fur such a startling white that he is a negative space against the sand.  He sits steadfast at her side, waiting for her to wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What You Will

In the land of fair Illyria, along a small, sandy stretch of it's rocky shore, a ship has come to ruin and one lone woman lies still as death among broken wood. Her companion, and the only other live creature on the beach, is a large, stray dog, fur such a startling white that he is a negative space against the sand. He sits steadfast at her side, waiting for her to wake and wake she finally does, coughing and gasping, turning sharply to her side to spew sea and salt from her lungs. Long, dark hair, heavy with water and sand gets in her way and she wrests the tangled mass over one shoulder, wringing it in confusion while she puzzles where and why. 

She remembers. The storm, the ship, her brother.

She becomes frantic, eyes feverish with fear and panic as she searches the beach and, in finding herself alone, runs to the waves.

“JOOOOOOOOOHN.”

She screams until her ragged voice is gone and then falls to her knees in the surf. A few items, here is cloth that may have been a lady's skirt, here is a fork, here and here and here are bits of drift wood, float about her but she is most decidedly alone. Despair crashes upon her with the waves and she cannot stand to feel the touch of her brother's murderer. She stumbles back to dry land, skirts heavy, hair heavy, heart heavy, to where her companion still sits and throws her arms around his neck, presses her face into his fur with not a thought that he could be anything but friendly.

As much wolf as may run through the dog's veins, for he is certainly large enough, he proves a constant guardian against both sea and misery and allows the woman to take her comfort as she weeps on his shoulder.

She cries for a long time but no supply of tears is infinite and finally she lifts her head and asks, “What ho, Dog?” She manages a small smile of belated greeting for her stoic friend for she and her brother were ever jesters, smiling and joking and making light and even in his absence, some habits are hard to break.

She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands. They sting from the added salt and she casts about for cloth dryer than what she wears. A trunk is left among the ruins and she opens it to reveal her brother's things. The sting in her eyes forgotten, she hugs as much of him as she can to her chest and a few tears yet remain to be shed. The dog treads forward and his tongue is warm and wet on her face in a way that makes her shriek and reach up to scrub away dog spit.

“Gross.” she scolds with another small smile, scratching him behind the ear. “I am sorry, Dog. I never mean to be bad company.”

“Can you tell me where this is? What terrible land is this where I must live while my brother cannot. Oh tell me where I am and what I should do here.” The woman's voice shakes as she refolds the clothing, wrinkled and damp now from where she crushed shirts and pants and socks to her chest. She packs the articles carefully back in the chest. 

Then she unfolds a shirt again and holds it at arms length. 

“I had a brother.” She speaks the words hard and accepting before she crumbles and reaches for the trunk again, digging through it wild and desperate before slamming the lid closed because she will not find him in it's depths and it pains her too much to continue.

“Oh Dog, I had a brother. Would that he had survived in my stead. He would have made better use of these things. He would have made better use of himself lacking a sister.”

She sprawls over the chest, trying to hide in her hair but the dog pushes his nose through it's dark curtains. He sneezes. She shrieks again, pulling her hair back to clean her face once more.

“Your dog buggers are the last thing I need!” A reluctant laugh presses through her misery and reaches out again, digging her fingers into the dog's thick, white ruff. She is quiet for a moment and determination straightens her back and lifts her chin.

“No, you are right, Dog. I shall not delude myself with self pity. He would be no better or worse off than I but what shall I do? The world will laugh should I try and make my way without him.”

She opens the chest again, slowly, ready to close it should it's contents bring back her despair but it does not and she shifts the items again, taking stock this time, mind fishing for ideas. There is an old photo at the bottom of her brother and herself, he in a wig and dress and she in a suit and fake mustache, long hair tucked carefully up under a top hat. Their smiles and eyes are near identical. She touches her brother's likeness and then holds the picture out for the dog to see.

“His name was John and we were great pranksters. What do you think, Dog? Should I laugh at the world instead and play one last, great prank in his honor? Yes. I will be a gentleman and serve a lord and keep my brother with me by donning his likeness. Our last joke together will be grand indeed.”

With a new sense of purpose she searches the trunk again for the knife she knows her brother kept and, upon it's finding, takes it to her own hair. It falls to the ground in tangled, salty clumps and the dog watches silently, the only witness to her transformation.


End file.
